


no man is an island

by LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, I Don't Even Know, Idiots in Love, Lack of Communication, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, No Spoilers, POV Alternating, Porn with Feelings, Questionable Lube Choices, Sharing a Bed, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-01-25 16:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12536100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch/pseuds/LoveIsNotAVictoryMarch
Summary: Flint and Silver are marooned on a tiny island.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent PWP with no back story so there are no spoilers (that I'm aware of) for seasons 2 to 4. I wrote this for fun this afternoon, and since it's my first Black Sails fic, I'll be happy to add tags and warnings as needed. I'm on [tumblr](https://procasdeanating.tumblr.com/), if you wanna say hi.

 

Flint squints against the sinking sun. The Walrus gets smaller as she steers towards the horizon, a black outline in a glowing sea. He can hear Silver fiddle and breathe behind him. New bile rises up and he clenches his fists to keep himself from turning and punch him.

“You might as well say it,” Silver mumbles.

“Say what?,” Flint sneers through his teeth.

“That this is all my fault.”

“Yeah, well, it is.” He takes a deep breath. “You and you fucking big mouth brought us here.”

The crew had left them behind on this island, not more than a fly shit on the map, with nothing more than a few bottles of rum and the suggestion they overthink their attitude. In not so many or elaborate words of course.

Flint turns inland and lets his gaze dart along the tree line. With a grunt, he sets out towards it. Silver stumbles after him. They have to find water and a place to make camp. With the waning light, they have an hour at best to get ready for the night.

 

#

 

The stream isn’t wider than his arm, but clear and fresh. Flint sinks down to drink a few handfuls of water and ignores Silver as best he can.

“We need shelter.” Silver’s eyes are fixed on him and Flint can feel that imploring gaze right to his bones. It’s not the worst thing Silver has done, and Flint knows he will forgive him eventually. All in all, this could have turned out worse. Instead of kicking him off his own ship, Billy could have decided he had enough of him for good and taken care of both of them in a more permanent way. As it stands, Billy gave them a week in which the crew went after a prize on their own, and when they come back, the men will have a vote how to proceed.

One week.

On a godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere, no provisions, nothing else to do than listen to Silver and his never-ending blabbering. Flint might have preferred to go under the ship.

He fills his hands and splashes the ice-cold water on his face to clear his mind. A few drops find their way under his shirt and crawl down his chest. With a sigh, he stands.

“You build a hut. I find fire wood.” He doesn’t wait for Silver answers before he sets out to look for dry logs.

 

#

 

The fire is hissing and cracking like gunshots. The forest is too thin and damp to provide them with dry wood, but it will suffice. Silver cut branches from the nearby trees and spread them over a makeshift construction. It’s small and they will have to sleep on nothing more than a heap of leaves, but Flint had worse.

Silver watches him from the other side of the fire. His face twitches now and then in the way it does when he wants to say something, as if he’s about to spit out one of his stories. But he stays silent. Flint appreciates it. In the blissful silence, he feels his anger subsiding. Silvers seems to realize that – how he does that, how he’s able to read Flint so effortlessly will remain a mystery – and a small smile tugs on his mouth.

“We should see it as a vacation. Might as well enjoy it,” he offers.

“Hmmm,” Flint grunts, and Silver’s smile widens, knowing full well he’s won.

 

#

 

The night is surprisingly chilly. They had been on their way north when the disagreement happened and Billy had thrown him off his own goddamn ship.

Silver snores next to him as Flint tosses and turns to find a comfortable position on the damp ground. As the cold seeps into the hut from every corner, he’s acutely aware of the heat Silver’s body exudes next to him. It’s … distracting.

There’s only an inch between them, and when Silver moves in his sleep, an arm or a hand or a leg brushes along Flint’s own.

He hasn’t slept this close to another person in a long time. It’s strangely intimate to lie here and listen to the soft sounds that mingle with the snores and the raspy breaths. Silver can’t be quiet even in his sleep, it seems. When the snores give way to strangled heaves, he pushes Silver’ shoulder lightly. No need to have him choke to death on his own saliva, he thinks, but he knows it’s more to have a chance to touch the warm body. Silver smacks his lips and turns, closing the space between them instinctively until he’s flush to Flint’s side, his face pressed against Flint’s chest, his right hand on Flint’s stomach.

Flint freezes. He tries to shallow his breathing while his mind whirls furiously and he waits for Silver to wake up, smile a crooked smile, say “sorry” with a wink and turn around again. But that doesn’t happen, and Flint can’t make himself regret it.

Slowly, as if the warmth from Silver’s hand untangles something deep inside him, he relaxes and his lids grow heavy. Silver huddles even closer with a contented sigh. With a last fervent curse of his life choices, Flint drifts of into a dreamless sleep.

 

#

 

When he wakes up the next morning, he’s alone. Flint rubs the sleep from his eyes and stares at the specks of sunlight that filter through the leaves above him. He can hear Silver rustling outside, but decides to lie here just a little while longer.

Last night had made the dangers of this “vacation” blatantly clear. Their relationship had always been intense, if they stood on the same side or not. No other person on this planet can get a rise out of him so fast and so completely, and Flint knows that at least on his side, that tension can be resolved only in one of two ways.

And while he had fantasized a few times about punching that cocky smile right off Sliver’s pretty face, it isn’t an outburst of violence he should be wary of.

A sharp tug in his groin accompanies the memory of last night. How easy it would have been to turn and seek more of the heat next to him. He huffs a laugh. Yeah, that would have gone over well, molesting a pirate in his sleep.

“Time to rise, princess.” Speaking of the devil, Silver ducks into the hut, grinning. “It’s bananas for breakfast.”

Flints gets up to join Silver outside. This will be a long week.

 

#

 

The day flies by as they carve spears and set out catching fish, stock up on fire-wood and hunt for berries and mangos to vary their meals. Silver keeps his chatting to the minimum and Flint is thankful for that, as it gives him time to form a strategy to earn the trust of his men back. He’ll have to win over Billy first, and then he’ll have to find them a profitable prize.

Dusk is approaching when they get back to their camp and start a fire. Three big snappers are sizzling on sticks over the flames and Silver deemed it appropriate to open one of the two bottles of rum to go with it. He takes a long gulp and Flint watches as his adam’s apple bobs and the tendons in his neck stand out. The firelight adds a soft glow to his skin and dances over the dark curls that, in Flint’s opinion, are just made to bury fingers in them.

Silver moans around his drink and hands the bottle over to Flint when he’s finished. His lips are still shining with wetness, and as their eyes meet over the fire, his pink tongue darts out to catch the drops. Flint rips the bottle out of Silver’s grasp, never leaving that blue gaze.

Angered by the way he can’t help to react to every single thing Silver does, he wonders if Silver knows what he’s doing, if he knows what it does to Flint. Raising his eyes heavenward, Flint takes a long drink from the bottle and relishes in the burn down his throat and the slow fire in his belly. The moment is over when he looks down again and Silver busies himself with the fried fish.

 

#

 

That night, the sliver of space between them is smaller than the night before, but still there, and again, Silver’s out like a light in minutes. Flint envies that ability to fall asleep anywhere and anytime. And he envies how unaffected Silver apparently is by the fact that they have to sleep in close proximity, close enough to feel each other’s breaths on their skin. Flint’s drifting to sleep slowly. The rum helped, at least, and the exertions of the day leave his bones heavy and tired.

He’s only blessed with a few hours of sleep though. When he wakes in the middle of the night, disoriented, he finds Silver wrapped around him, a hand on Flints thumping heart, a thigh over his lower body where it settles heavily on Flint’s half-hard cock. He can’t breathe for a second, as his mind scrambles to makes sense of the situation. Lying perfectly still, he curses his own body and Silver’s and the situation in general, before he ponders the possibilties.

If he moves, Silver will wake up and there’s no way he won’t be aware of Flint’s state. If he doesn’t move, he’ll have to lie here and will his erection down while the warm pressure of Silver’s thigh tortures him and beckons him to seek out the friction it promises.

Silver’s head is cushioned on his shoulder and the soft strands of his hair tickle Flint’s nose, and he can smell him, male and musky. While his mind still debates how he can get out of this mess with his sanity intact, his right hand is already on its way to find Silver’s head and touch one curl with his fingertips. So soft, just like he thought.

Silver murmurs something in his sleep and tightens his hold on Flint’s shirt, and as he moves, Flint learns that he is not the only one deceived by his own body. The unmistakable feeling of Silver’s erection pressed against his hip adds a whole new layer to this hell. Fire burns in his gut, desire so imminent and undeniable it makes him dizzy. And that is before Silver starts moving again, shallowly thrusts against him and the low murmurs transform into needy little gasps that shoot right to his groin.

Flint can’t take one more second of it. He coughs, loudly, and untangles himself before Silver is fully awake. He’s out of the hut as quick as he can manage and sets out in long strides to get out of earshot, before he stops next to a tree and leans heavily on it.

A blink of an eye later his pants are down and his hand is wrapped around his cock. He buries his face in the crook of his arm to stifle his groans and jerks himself hard, tight, as the whimpers of Silver’s unconscious arousal still echo in his ears.

Would he sound like that if Flint touched him? Would he moan and shout his name? His hips snap forward into the tunnel of his fist, and he bites down hard into the flesh of his forearm as his release seizes his body and his mind blanks with the force of it.

He calms his breathing and tugs himself back in, before he makes his way back. Silver hums a questioning note when Flit lies back down, and he grunts “Had to take a piss” and turns his back to Silver.

 

#

 

They scout the rest of the island. It’s not much, three miles long, one mile wide. A hill rises in the middle, not more than a huge rock, and on the side of it, they find a small lake with a waterfall. It’s a scene right out of a picture book, with warm sunlight glittering on the rippled surface and the canopy of trees framing the water.

Flint is still admiring the view when he hears the rustling of fabric next to him.

“What the hell are you doing?”, he asks, acutely aware of the panicked undertone the question carries. He forces himself to keep his eyes up when he turns to look at Silver who already lost his shirt and his boots and now nestles with the flap of his pants.

“What does it look like? I’m going for a swim.”

“You never swim,” Flint answers weakly while he loses the battle with his own will and lets his gaze dart down Silver’s body, from his broad shoulders over his ripped stomach to the dark patch of hair that frames his cock. Thankfully, Silver doesn’t seem to notice as he turns and walks into the water. With one languid motion, he dives into the lake and swims over to the waterfall with strong and elegant strokes.

Flint watches him, still dumb-struck. It has to be on purpose, he thinks, he’s doing this on purpose, maybe to punish me for something or to make fun of me or just because he can and he enjoys exploiting weaknesses. His suspicion grows as he finds Silver’s form again, standing under the spray of the waterfall, hands wandering over his torso. Against the dark stone and the dark water, he looks like he’s made of marble, and Flint’s reminded of the statues he once saw in Rome when he was younger. Silver’s skin will be cold from the water, smooth and slick, with hard muscle underneath, he muses, and his fingers tingle with the need to find out for himself.

“You should wash up, too,” Silver shouts. “God knows when you last had a proper bath.”

Flint looks down at his grimy shirt and the clean path that the drop made on their first day on the island. Before he can think it through and form a strategy, he opens the buttons and tugs the fabric over his head. If Silver wants to play games, well, they have nothing but time here.

The water is cold enough to clear his head a little, but warm enough to make a lazy swim enjoyable. Flint’s muscles loosen with each motion and he swims a few laps before he joins Silver under at the waterfall, close enough that he could touch him if he reached out his arm.

Ignoring the enticing display of naked flesh as best he can, he starts washing the grime from his skin. Silver’s right, it has been a long time since he had time for a proper bath, and it feels good to get clean from head to toe.

Silver’s surprisingly quiet, and when Flint looks up to find out why, he finds those ridiculously blue eyes fixed on his own body, and something dark and hungry moves in them. Silver’s lips are parted and Flint can see his chest moving with his heavy breathing.

Whatever outcomes he anticipated when he undressed and followed Silver’s invitation, this was not amongst them. His own heart picks up speed and heat pools low in his gut while he watches Silver watching him. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, and there’s none of the usual masks Silver wears concealing the pure want edged into his features.

So that’s how it is, Flint thinks, and his smile widens into a grin. Flint keeps moving his hands all over his own body, strokes over his chest to play with one of his hardening nipples, up to his neck, exposing it, and down again, over his belly and lower still, under the waterline and out of Silver’s sight. A sound falls from Silver’s open lips when Flint reaches his groin. He tugs on his hardening cock, more to hear that sound again than for his own pleasure, and to tease a reaction out of Silver.

It works.

Silver closes the distance with two steps into his space, not touching yet. He lifts his right hand and cups Flint’s cheek, a tender gesture in such a stark contrast to the boiling need under Flint’s skin that he almost flinches back from it. Silver tugs Flint’s head down until their noses are brushing and leans in to bring his lips close.

“Finally,” he whispers, barely audible over the rumbling of the water and Flint’s own pulse roaring in his ears, and then captures his mouth in a searing kiss. Flint’s hands fly to Silver’s waist and pull until skin meets skin, and heat blooms everywhere they touch.

Silver licks against the seam of his lips and he opens willingly for the quick tongue that brought them both into trouble so many times before. Silver grips his neck and the back of his head to angle him where he wants him as he explores his mouth and teases him to join the dance. It’s playful, and surprisingly confident, and leaves Flint gasping for air.

Silver moans his pleasure into the kiss when their lower bodies align and their lengths rub against each other. It’s everything Flint ever dreamed of and nothing like he thought it could be. Silver is demanding, pushing his hips against Flint, relentlessly seeking friction. It’s like holding on to a storm and Flint is swept away willingly in the pull and push of motion.

He takes control of the kiss with a groan, licking into the slick heat of Silver’s mouth and fucking his tongue deep. His hand trails up over Silver’s side, to his back counting the knobs of his spine and up into his hair where he grips the wet strands and tugs, hard, to be rewarded with a needy whine and a sharp thrust of Silver’s hips.

They’d have to get out of the water to do anything more, but to Flint this is enough, the slick glide of Silver’s cock against his, the wicked swirl of his tongue, the sounds of his undoing. Silver doesn’t seem to share his sentiment.

He brings his hand down under the surface of the water that sloshes around their lower bodies and wraps his fingers around both their cocks. Flint grunts, shocked by the sudden pressure, and widens his stance to counteract the height difference, gives Silver room to press their lengths together and pump his fist over them from base to tip.

It’s less than ideal, and their rhythm is off, but the roughness of Silver’s palm and the soft glide of his cock get him to the brink fast.

The kiss turns sloppy between their ragged breaths. Flint draws back to lean his forehead against Silver’s so he can look down to where he can only make out the movement of Silver’s hand.

“Oh fuck,” Silver stutters, voice hoarse and raw.

Flint himself is close, so close, and he tightens his grip in Silver’s hair and on his ass, snaps his hips into the tightness of Silver’s fist, and he can feel the muscles under Silver’s skin tensing.

“Yeah, come on,” he grunts, “come for me.”

Silver stops breathing, and for once in his life, he’s completely silent, as his hand stills and Flint can feel his cock jerking against his own as he comes. He fits his own hand around Silver’s and squeezes it, pumps once, twice and then he follows with a shout.

Their hands stay entangled while they stand there, breathing, with the water cascading down and taking the proof of what just happened with it. Silver nuzzles the side of Flint’s neck and tightens his hold on his hand.

“Let’s head back”, he says.

“To do what?” Flint asks.

“Eat. Drink. Talk about it.” Silver presses a kiss to the juncture where his shoulder meets his neck, and adds a hint of teeth for good measure. “And then go again.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops! I didn't plan for another chapter but look what happened... I'm flagging this as a WIP since I have a few more ideas but I'm not sure how long it might get and if there will be actual plot happening on the way. Hope you enjoy!

 

The way back takes longer than he thought. Mostly it’s because he keeps looking over at Flint and more often than not finds that disconcerting stare on him. They look at each other in a new way now, undisguised and still wary. Flint doesn’t trust him, not fully, and Silver knows this man too well to fully trust him either.

But their mutual desire had been made clear at least. Silver spent weeks wondering, imagining and doubting the feeling in his gut. Flint wants him. And that’s as exhilarating as it’s terrifying, because being close to this man means danger.

They stumble through the jungle and steal glances, but otherwise they’re quiet. The fresh memory of what just happened crowds Silver’s mind, and he shoves all thoughts of the future aside. He will have three more days here, with Flint, and he will make sure to make the best of it.

Three days, and suddenly he can’t wait a second longer. He stops and turns to Flint, crowds him against the nearest tree and dives in for a kiss.

Flint lets himself be manhandled, which is something Silver would never have anticipated, and goes pliant under his hands as Silver shoves his thigh between Flints legs and presses close to kiss him deeply. The thought of taking his pleasure from a man as strong and dominant as Flint speaks to something deep inside him and lets his spent cock stir weakly in his pants. It’s not only the power it gives him, although that’s certainly a part of it, but the trust Flint shows him that makes him dizzy, the knowledge that Flint allows it, that he enjoys it, that in this moment, he gives the reins to Silver willingly.

He sucks Flint’s lower lip in to his mouth and bites down hard enough to sting and revels in the helpless groan it earns him. Flint’s hands are in his hair again, as if he has some secret way to know how much Silver likes it played with. Flint’s fingernails scratch along his scalp and Silver hums to show his approval.

“Silver,” Flint grunts.

“Aye, Captain?” Silver murmurs against the shell of Flint’s ear and he swears he can feel Flint smile a pleased smile at the title.

“Why are we standing in the middle of nowhere when we could be back at the camp already?”

It’s a valid question, Silver admits, and leans back with a chuckle. “Can’t fault your line of thinking. Although a lot is to be said for improvisation, too. Enhances the anticipation.”

Flint huffs, grabs Silver’s hand and presses it to his crotch unceremoniously. Silver can feel the bulge of Flint’s arousal through the damp fabric and is shocked to feel his own body react imminent and vigorously. Flint snaps his hips to make his point.

“Oh, I’m quite sure the size of my _anticipation_ will not leave anything to be desired.” Flint’s voice is low and rough and it does things to Silver’s gut. He needs a moment to get his stumbling heart under control, before he realizes …

“Did you just …” He draws back to look at Flint. “Was that a joke?”

Flint grins wide, and it’s not the feral grin that makes the most hardened villains in the Caribbean uncomfortable; it’s a true and carefree smile that transforms his features and makes his eyes glint with laughter. Silver watches him, awestruck, and he promises himself there and then that he will do anything to see it again.

Flint … he is flirting with him. Wonders will never seize.

He trails his fingertips over the outline of Flint’s cock, remembers the heavy weight of it in his palm back at the lake, and he aches with the need to feel it again, to see Flint come undone again from his touch. But this playful teasing is even more tempting. Blinking up at Flint through his eyelashes, he licks his lips, and decides to draw the moment out, see how far he can go before Flint cracks. Flint’s eyes follow the movement of his tongue hungrily.

“Why, Captain, and I had been so sure shrewd puns were beneath you.” He rubs his thumb over the head of Flint’s cock and smiles as Flint’s face goes slack with want.

“Fuck you, Silver.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it.”

 

#

 

They stop twice more on their way to the camp, clutching at each other with clumsy hands, kissing and laughing at their own eagerness. Silver’s heart leaps with every smile Flint sends his way, and with a start he recognizes the lightness in his chest and the warmth in his gut as happiness. He hasn’t felt this way in years, and he can tell it’s been a long time for Flint, too.

Dusk is approaching as they reach their hut. He had planned to have Flint naked the moment they arrived, but when they get there, he feels strangely reluctant to give in just yet.

“We should eat something,” he says, and Flint stops short beside him.

“What?”

Silver laughs at his shocked tone and turns to put a hand on Flint’s neck and draw him close for a quick deep kiss.

“We haven’t eaten all day, and I for one am certain we will need our strength for tonight.”

Flint grunts unhappily. Silver would have laughed if anyone had ever claimed this, and he will certainly take the knowledge to his grave and never say it out loud, but Flint is _cute_ when he’s grumpy.

“Alright,“ he says and rubs a palm down his face and through his beard as if to clear his head. “You’re right.”

They make a quick meal out of fruit and leftover fish, all the while watching each other. Silver makes a point of licking the juice of his mango from his fingers, and Flint’s eyes go dark while they follow the motion. He can see Flint’s tongue moving behind his teeth as he pops berries in his mouth and he knows it’s no coincidence when Flint’s hand reaches for a banana next.

“Okay, that’s enough I guess.” Silver’s mouth is dry and his voice a mere rasp. He crawls over to Flint and gets into his personal space without touching. Flint ignores him, peels the fruit and closes his lips around it, and the image is so ridiculous and arousing at the same time that Silver can’t process it right away. A strangled sound falls from his lip, half chuckle, half moan. He rips Flint’s hand with the fruit to the side and covers that wicked mouth with his own.

Even after all the kisses they shared today, Silver will never tire of the wet heat that’s greeting him, nor the unsuspected softness of Flint’s lips or the rasp of his beard. He dreamed of this before, lay awake at night, hand wrapped around himself and biting his lip to keep silent, fantasizing about a night with Flint, but everything his imagination had supplied falls short in contrast to reality.

Flint, in his role on the ship and in Nassau, is a force of nature, an unyielding tyrant, a strategic mastermind, cool, collected, in control even in the most chaotic situation, always three steps ahead of his opponents.

Now Silver sees a side of him that few people might have seen before. Silver’s fingers find the hem of Flint’s shirt and tug it over his head to expose miles of soft, freckled skin, stretched over strong muscle. At the push of Silver’s hand on his chest, Flint lies back without resistance, bares his neck to Silver’s lips and teeth, and gasps when Silver bites down and sucks a mark into his skin.

No, Silver couldn’t have dreamed of this. His hands roam over Flint’s chest, trail through the soft hair and map out the curves of his pectorals and his shoulders. Flint’s hands are on Silver’s back, stroking in circles, up into his hair, down to the small of his back, and Silver would find it soothing in any other context. Now it’s a tease, the touch too soft to be satisfying. They might have all the time in world, that doesn’t mean they have to take it. All his earlier determination to draw this out seems ridiculous all of a sudden.

While his mouth finds one of Flint’s nipples and closes around it to lick it into hardness, he brings his hand between their bodies to shove Flints trousers down.

“Finally,” Flint rasps, an echo to Silver’s affirmation earlier, and Silver bites down just enough to hurt on the sensitive nub in reprimand, pleased when Flint arcs off the ground and chokes out a beautiful sound. He goes on to leave a trail of wet kisses and small nips down Flint’s body.

Fair skin reddens under his administrations, shows every scratch of his stubble as he goes, and Silver leans up every now and then to admire his work. Flint, who has survived fights and battles and assault and left it all seemingly unscathed, looks vulnerable and so human here, as he pants with desire and yields to whatever Silver wants to do to him.

Looking up to find his eyes, Silver smiles and something warm unfolds inside him at seeing that smile returned, almost bashful. Without breaking eye contact, Silver brings his hand to Flint’s cock and angles it, before he slowly leans down and sucks the head into his mouth. Flint’s dark eyes go wide. His hand tightens in Silver’s hair, involuntarily, just to loosen a second later. A harsh breath follows, as if he’s about to dive into the sea.

Flint’s taste explodes on his tongue, and god, he wanted this for so long that he’s greedy now and forgoes every skillful move he might have tried, just sucks Flint down until the thick length of his cock meets the back of his throat.

The noise Flint makes is worth it. A strangled shout, and Silver thinks he can make his name, his first name somewhere in it, “John,” and he draws up to push down again, hear that sound again, make Flint sing his name. Flint holds his head without guiding him, his broad thumb stroking circles on his jaw, and Silver can see his stomach muscles working as he keeps himself from fucking up into Silver’s mouth. Even in the height of this, he’s holding back, and while Silver is thankful for that, it’s not what he wants.

He lets his jaw go slack and tries to find a position that allows him to take Flint’s girth without choking. When he reaches up to touch Flint’s hand in his hair and looks at him to make his intention clear, Flint sucks in a breath and brings his other hand to Silver’s head. Silver, crouching now between Flint’s legs, braced on his arms, swallows and moans at the first tentative thrust of Flint’s hips. Flint’s cradles his head tenderly, still, but Silver can feel his control slip, he can see it in the trembling of his skin and hear it in the helpless groan that accompanies the next time Flint rocks up into Silver’s waiting mouth.

And then the coil snaps, and Flint starts to move his hips in earnest, drawing back and pushing deep. Silver relaxes his jaw and his throat as best he can, draws shallow breaths through his nose and tries to get a look at Flint now and then which is almost impossible at this angle. When he manages, he’s rewarded with the sight of Flint falling apart under him, flushed and panting and primal and gorgeous, his gaze locked on the space where his cock vanishes in Silver’s mouth.

Flint braces his feet next to Silver to get more leverage, and Silver angles his head to let him drive even deeper, nudge past the back of his throat. He’s never done this, only had it done to him once or twice, and he’s glad he keeps his breathing steady and can stop himself from gagging. Flint presses forward slowly now, and his thumbs pick up the stroking once more.

“God, John, look at you,” Flint murmurs. The blunt head of his cock feels impossibly big inside him, and Silver’s jaw hurts with the strain, and spit runs down his chin, but it’s all worth it. The rush of knowing he put that broken tone of awe in Flint’s voice is something he never felt before. He moans at the praise and takes a careful breath before he looks up again and deliberately swallows.

Flint is _loud_ , and possibly as caught by surprise as Silver is when his hips buck up and he comes down Silver’s throat in hot spurts. Now Silver does gag and cough and has to sit back on his haunches to catch his breath. That gives him the opportunity to watch Flint come down, see him shudder and relax. He wipes his mouth and chuckles low.

“Sorry for that,” he says as Flint sits up to face him.

“It’s my fault, I … lost it.” A concerned frown builds between his brows as he reaches out to cup Silver’s cheek. “Are you alright?”

Silver leans into the touch. “Yes.” He moves his jaw carefully. “Not bad for a first try, I’d say.”

The movement of Flint’s hand stops abruptly. “Your … what? Are you telling me you’ve never done this before? Any of this?”

Silver casts down his gaze and shrugs awkwardly. “Well, some of it. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not one to form attachments lightly. Or ever. The occasion never arose.”

The answer, as formal as it sounds, equals a confession, and Silver knows Flint will read it as such. He feels raw with it, and swallows against the lump in his throat. He could just as well have admitted openly that this is more for him than a roll in the hay, born out of curiosity and opportunity. Damn his loose tongue.

Flint is silent for a long time. When he moves, it’s slow and deliberate, as if he wants to give Silver the chance to stop him, as if he isn’t sure how to proceed after Silver’s words. The air has changed between them. This is unchartered terrain, and Silver curses himself for saying too much. If he had laughed it off with a lie and or even just admitted that he’d never had his throat fucked, they could have moved on and enjoyed this while it lasted.

Flint is in his line of vision now, gently lifts his face until Silver has to look at him. Slow, slow, slow Flint moves closer.

“We’ll have to talk about that,” he murmurs and presses in for a soft kiss. “Tomorrow.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idiots in love and more steamy shenanigans ...
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day:-)

 

They spend the evening sharing the last bottle of rum and their favorite stories. Silver’s slip-up hangs in the air between them unacknowledged. By the end of the evening Flint has convinced himself he read too much into it. Silver is the epitome of opportunism, and whatever affection Flint has developed for him, he’s sure it’s not reciprocated. He’s not sure he can trust Silver, but even more so, he’s not sure he can trust himself.

Silver recounts the tales of their adventures, as if Flint didn’t live through them at his side. Silver forms the recollection of those events into something else, a story worth telling, a story full of sense and fated outcomes. It’s a stunning ability, and Flint feels himself engrossed in the tale even though he knows the outcome. The familiar melody of Silver’s voice and the warmth of the rum in his belly soothe the undercurrents in Flint’s mind.

 

#

 

Flint wakes up early and lies still to have some time to think. Silver is curled around him just like the nights before but this time, Flint lets it happen, lets his palm rest on Silver shoulder and enjoys the warmth and comfort.

How did this happen so fast? What started as a game and grew into a chance to blow off some steam had become something else entirely in the span of a day. Flint should have seen it coming. Silver had wormed his way into his life too easily, had slipped by his defenses with ease and now… now Flint has to admit he rather likes the way they lie here now, against all odds he enjoys the time with Silver on this island, their “vacation”, and not just because of the glorious blowjob he got yesterday.

It has to end though. Which leaves him with two strategies: Put a stop to it today, push Silver away and pretend it never happened. Or give in while it lasts and take the risk that the thing between them grows even deeper roots that will be even harder to rip out when the time comes.

Silver stirs beside him. Flint holds him just a little bit tighter for just a little bit longer. Then he untangles himself and gets up.

 

#

 

They don’t talk much over the day. Silver took one look at Flint in the morning and seemed to know a decision has been made. And maybe he came to same conclusion, maybe he knows Flint well enough to not ask stupid questions. He leaves Flint alone. By midday, he sets out to find more fruit, and Flint lets him go without protest.

Two more days. And then he’ll have other things to worry about, new decisions to make and a crew to handle. They will give each other space to sort it out for themselves and maybe they’ll laugh about it all in a year or two, the silly little misstep on an island in the sun.

 

#

 

Silver’s back an hour later. He lets his harvest fall next to the fire and sits down heavily to reach behind his back and start scratching. Flint ignores him for as long as he can, but finally the sounds and the fidgeting claw through the last of his nerves.

“What the hell happened out there?”

“Swarm of bees. They didn’t take well to the interruption.”

“Let me see.”

Silver shoots him a look that says _You think that’s a good idea?_ and Flint answers by raising his eyebrow. Silver sighs and lifts his shirt to expose the welts on his skin. Flint can see at least five on his chest, red and angry, and before he can stop himself, he’s over at Silver’s side and the tip of his finger trails the skin along one of the bites.

“Stay here,” he orders and leaves without waiting for an answer. Yesterday he saw … there it is. He grabs the thick leaves of the aloe plant and breaks three from the stems. Back at the camp he slices ones of the leaves and holds it out to Silver.

“Put this on the bites, it’ll help.”

Silver takes the leave gingerly and starts to apply the clear liquid that oozes from it on his stings. A sigh of relief tumbles from his lips and Flint has to look away, busies himself with gathering the fruit that rolled all over the place. He should go …

“What about my back?”

Flint groans inwardly and closes his eyes.

“What about your back?”

“I can’t reach it,” Silver states, and of course he’s right and it’s a valid question, just one Flint doesn’t feel stable enough to deal with right now. When he finally looks up to find Silver’s gaze, his features are neutral, as if this isn’t a big deal, as if it doesn’t set them on that same fucking dangerous path again. I must have died and this is my own personal hell, Flint thinks, to be tormented by this cocky, insistent, pesky piece of shit, but his heart isn’t in it.

He grabs the aloe from Silver’s hand and cuts another slice off, before he moves over.

“Lie down,” he bites out and Silver does, on his front, so Flint can see the bee stings on his back, right down to the low riding hem of his pants. He takes a moment to admire the view. Silver’s skin looks soft and smooth in the sunlight, and muscle and bone move under it enticingly.

With efficient movements, Flint applies the soothing liquid onto the bites and tries to ignore the soft sounds of pleasure Silver makes. He’s so very vocal about everything he likes, whenever Flint touches him, and Flint knows those sounds will haunt his nights for years. Silver’s body is firm and warm under his hands, and somehow, Flint can’t bring himself to stop just yet. He smoothes his palms over Silver’s shoulder blades and up to his neck, gathers more liquid and spreads it over the unblemished skin, too. Silver falls quiet for a moment, before he hums his consent and approval.

Flint digs into the muscle of Silver’s shoulder and into the tendons of his neck, along his spine. Silver outright moans when Flint finds a sore spot and massages it until the tension loosens. It’s only fair, Flint argues with that voice inside his head that screams at him what a terrible idea this is, he’s only taking the chance to make Silver feel good, what’s to worry about?

Silver wriggles on the ground and Flint sees right through that movement. And just like that, it’s there again, that need that burns just under his skin, that eats him alive when it’s stoked with the simplest of gestures. His hands still on Silvers shoulder and he takes a steadying breath.

“Don’t stop. Please.” Silver’s voice is rough, and even though he’s begging, Flint’s the one who feels helpless here. His palms move over Silver and leave goosebumps in their wake, until he reaches the soft swell of Silver’s ass and skirts his fingertips along the waistband.

“Please,” Silver murmurs again, and he lifts his hips to push down the fabric just far enough to bare his cheeks. Flint looks his fill, from the curve of Silver’s back to his strong thighs, the dark patches of soft hair.

“Hands and knees,” he rasps, and doesn’t recognize his own voice. He sounds wrecked already, broken. And he feels that way, too, cracked open by a whole mess of emotions in which lust is the only clear one, so strong and undeniable it’s almost enough to drown the others. Flint lets it, weak as he is, and coats his fingers while Silver scrambles up and waits, shivering.

Flint trails a finger down Silver’s cleft while he uses his other hand to spread him wide. Silver gasps when he first makes contact with his hole, just a fleeting touch that leaves the pink flesh wet and shining. Down, down, over his perineum to his balls, and up again. Flint can see Silver working to relax, fighting against the tension, and a tremble runs along Silver’s spine while he moans softly when Flint’s fingertip finds his entrance again.

Silver not pleading now, but Flint answers nonetheless and pushes against the tightness with his index finger to find Silver opening up for him easy. The glide of the lubricant is less slippery than oil and he can feel Silver’s insides brush against his finger, so tight and hot, as he pushes deep and steady until he’s seated fully inside Silver’s body and they both sigh.

He’s always loved this act and the intimacy of it, whether someone did it to him or he had the chance to. As he starts moving his finger, to loosen Silver and to find his sweet spot, he lets himself get lost in the feeling of it. Silver, who has gone still after the first breech, now gasps again and Flint memorizes the right angle and gets a soft cry as a reward. He soothes a hand over Silver’s back and curls it around his hip to keep him steady as he picks up a faster rhythm and adds another finger.

Silver makes the most beautiful noise at the intrusion and pants through his nose while he adjust to the girth. And then he starts rocking back against Flint’s hand, wantonly and greedy, and Flint can do nothing more than comply and fuck his finger deep into Silver’s tightness and make him cry out with every other thrust.

“Another,” Silver demands and clenches around Flint’s two fingers. Flint scissors him wider, adds new liquid, but doesn’t give him what he wants just yet. His fingers glide into Silver’s body with ease now, and find their goal with precision. Silver is shivering and tensing in waves, and desperate little noises accompany each labored breath.

“You could come just from this, couldn’t you,” Flint whispers, “with just my fingers in your ass.”

Silver shakes his head, and he’s whining now, fucking himself back on Flint’s hand with sharp thrusts. He lifts his hand from the ground and brings it to his cock, but Flint stops him with a smack on his ass. Silver complies with a whimper that sends sparks right through Flint’s groin.

Silver sinks on his forearms, snaps his hips back more erratically now. Flint can feel him come close rapidly, he can see his muscles tighten and his hole tremble, and still he waits just for the right moment. Silver’s grunting now with the exertion and the need to come, tethering on the edge, as if he’s too far gone to cross that line on his own.

“Please.”

Flint pulls out his fingers, watches Silver’s hole clench around nothing before he leans over Silver’s body and curls a hand around his straining cock, holds him in the palm of his hand, and strokes along the length torturously slow. He brings his mouth close to Silver’s ear.

“What was that?”

“Please…” Silver whimpers as Flint presses three of his fingers into his body and starts jerking him fast and tight. The reaction is imminent. Silver convulses with the force of his climax, spurting thick come over Flint’s fist and onto the ground and Flint doesn’t slow down, doesn’t let up until he’s spent and his arms give out under Silver.

Sitting back, Flint makes fast work of his pants and grips his own erection with his come-stained hand. He’s almost there already just from seeing Silver come undone, and he groans at the sight of his sated body stretched out before him. A blue eyes watches him from under a curtain of sweat-soaked curls.

“On me,” Silver murmurs hoarsely.

His orgasm rolls over Flint like a wave, starts with a tingle is spine, a pressure in his groin and the telltale tightness in his balls. “Fuck,” and then he’s painting Silver’s backside in long stripes, watching rapt as Silver moans with every spurt that hits him.

Flint collapses next to him then, mirroring his position with his head cushioned on his arm, and their face close enough to feel each other breathing. A small smile plays around Silver’s lips and his face is soft with quiet contentment. Beautiful, Flint thinks and trails the line of Silver’s bottom lip before he leans in and kisses the smile he put there.

All too sudden, he remembers, and regret fills him at having given in again.

“What is this, John? What are we doing?”

Silver sighs, and the smile turns wistful as he closes his eyes.

“How would I know?”, he whispers and Flint can see him drift off. His voice is slurred and his face already slack with sleep approaching. “I’ve never been in love.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Silver wakes up in the shadow of one of the palm trees, feeling lazy and content. When he blinks open his eyes, he’s greeted with the sight of Flint, sleeping next to him. He looks peaceful like this, all the hard lines of his face are softened, his mouth full and his lips slightly parted. Silver takes the chance to watch him, to trace the lines this life has left on his features, and something that’s close to tenderness tightens his chest.

He hadn’t planned their latest encounter, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. Being with Flint is exhilarating and grounding at the same time, and he’ll never tire of seeing Flint loose his cool demeanor as he gives himself over to desire and want.

Flint asked what’s between them, and Silver remembers his words with a pang of terror. As a man who lies for a living, it’s shocking how honest he is when it comes to Flint. To speak of love or even some deeper kind of attachment is foolish, and he knows that, but he has no other name for the emotion that has been growing in his heart for a while now, and that burst through all his carefully erected barriers that used to keep people at arm’s length. And Silver is tired, so tired of being alone and watching his back all the time. It might be foolish, and it might be egoistical, yet he promises to get Flint to talk about it before they leave this island.

He stretches and feels a few traces of Flint’s release still on his back. Flint must have cleaned the most of it and Silver blushes at the intimate gesture. Whatever this is between them, he doesn’t want it to end.

Flint stirs beside him, and Silver smiles when he opens one eye to squint at him. They don’t say a word for a long time, and Silver feels weighed and scrutinized. He has no idea what’s happening inside Flint’s thick skull, what kind of strategy his mind is working on. So he waits until Flint shares his conclusion.

Silver keeps his eyes on Flint though, eager for just the smallest hint his face might betray. After a long while, Flint sighs, and Silver braces for the rebuttal. But instead of speaking, Flint reaches out and traces Silver’s bottom lip with his thumb, a soft gesture that’s accompanied by a look that resembles defeat an aweful lot.

Silver’s careful smile widens into a grin and a small laugh bubbles up from his chest.

“It’s gonna be messy,” Flint grunts, “and it’s gonna make things fucking complicated.”

Silver nods and Flint’s thumb moves to press along his jaw, fingers curl behind his ear, and then Flint is pulling him close enough for a searing kiss that wipes the grin from Silver’s face and makes him moan with rekindled want instead. They were talking about something important though. He tugs back his head to look at Flint.

“Others make it work. Jack and Anne sailed together for years”, he argues.

Flint huffs. “For one, none of them captained their ship. Two, they’re both completely nuts. Not exactly a role model, I’d say.” His voice is gruff, but Silver can see a tiny smile blooming at the corner of Flint’s lips.

“It’s not like we’d count as sane in most people’s eyes.”

Now Flint does smile, and it’s one of the real smiles full of humor and warmth. “I guess not,” he agrees. “So, what’s your plan?”

“Mine?” Silver hates how high his voice gets, but he’s outright shocked to be asked his opinion on the matter. When Flint watches him silently and seems to genuinely wait for an answer, Silver bites his lip and thinks. What does he want? He wants to keep making out with Flint, spend time with him, be a part of the very small circle of people he trusts. He wants to see where this goes, how deep it goes.

“I never really thought of that, well, I thought a lot about it, about us, but not the day-to-day specifics.” Is that a fucking blush heating his cheeks? After all the things they’ve done on this island, now’s not the time to get shy. But he can’t help it, because fucking is so much easier than talking about … what, even? A relationship? “I guess, I’d like to spend time with you.” He can’t even look at Flint now. “And, you know, if the occasion arises…”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Flint takes a deep breath and it sounds a little bit unsteady, or maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“I guess we could do that.” More breathing. “I can’t make exceptions or treat you different from the rest of the men, though.” He sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to Silver.

“I understand,” Silver says, sincere. For an opportunist like him, it says a lot that he didn’t even think about the possibility that he could gain any favors like this. Flint makes him forget quite a few of his survival instincts, and it’s more than a little bit frightening how little Silver cares about that.

Silence settles once again around them.

He may have dozed off again, and flows back to consciousness when Flint moves and clears his throat. “I …” Flints starts and Silver blinks his eyes open to look at him. Flint watches him with wide eyes and he looks years younger like this, open and vulnerable. “It’s been a long time since I … shared something with anyone.” He swallows and Silver can see how much this must cost him.

He reaches out to touch Flint’s chest. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, because it’s the only thing they can do, because Silver doesn’t know how to do this either. He grabs Flint’s shirt and pulls him close until their noses are touching and the blue of Flint’s eyes becomes a blur. “Stop talking.”

Flint lets himself be pulled into an embrace easily. The sun is setting behind him in a blaze of red and orange and makes his skin and hair glow. They meet unhurried, dive into another kiss that’s slow and wet and perfect. Silver’s heart beats in his throat, and he can feel Flint’s pulse thumping under his fingertips where he still touches his chest. He tugs on his shirt and Flint grabs the hem to pull it over his head.

Silver takes advantage of the revealed skin and lets his hands wander over the expanse of Flint’s back, over his sides and down his front to play with his hardening nipples, delighted by the small gasp he earns. Flint’s still kissing him with fervor, as if he can’t get enough of it, with a passion that makes Silver’s body stir with desire.

“James,” he breathes between one kiss and another while Flint mouths down his neck and sucks a mark into the tender skin. Silver arcs his back at the sting of teeth that’s almost but not quite painful. Flint strokes a hand over his chest and down over his stomach to find his half-hard cock and bring it to full hardness with a few strokes. Silver can feel Flint hot and thick against his thigh, and he remembers how incredible it felt to have Flint opening him up a few hours before, how full and wanted and cared for he felt. “I want you,” he sighs now, and Flint lifts his head to find his gaze.

“You have me,” he says, and it sounds more profound than it should. Flint still strokes his cock lazily, and Silver closes his eyes to just enjoy how good it feels for a moment. Flint’s hand is big and warm and skilled, and he knows exactly what makes Silver squirm with want. His thumb is pressing against his slit and he twists his grip on the upstroke, clearly delighted by the way Silver’s breath catches.

“What do you want?”, Flint murmurs in his ear, and Silver wants to say _Everything,_ but settles for:

“I want you to fuck me,” breathless and wavering, shocked by how much he wants this, how much he needs to feel Flint inside him.

It’s Flint’s turn to gasp now, and he lets his head drop to Silver’s shoulder as if the prospect alone makes him weak. Flint’s cock twitches against Silver’s thigh, and he feels a bit uneasy when he remembers the girth of it, tries to imagine how it will feel filling him up, pressing deep inside him.

Flint’s hand drops from Silver’s cock and dips between his legs, cups his balls and strokes over his perineum. Silver opens his thighs wider to give Flint access and moans when Flint’s fingers find his entrance, still loose and slick from their earlier encounter. Flint circles his rim with a fingertip until Silver wriggles with impatience, only to gain a dark chuckle and more slow touches.

“Come on,” Silver rasps, and Flint gives in and slides two fingers inside him at once. It burns just a little, and Flint can’t go deep from this angle, but it’s already so _good_ , Silver moves down against the pressure to urge Flint on.

“So eager,” Flint admonishes, but there’s heat in his voice, and he slips his fingers free to search for more lubricant. Silver takes the chance to grab his head and pull him in for another kiss as soon as he’s back, and Flint plunges his tongue between his teeth and conquers his mouth just when his fingers are back, slick and cold, and push into Silver faster and with more intend now.

Flint scissors two fingers to open Silver up, and soon they are joined by a third, pumping and twisting until Silver pants and whines against his lips. He’s painfully hard and his neglected cock is leaking steadily against his belly, but all he can concentrate on is where he’s stretched wide from Flint’s relentless fingers, where he can feel every knuckle breaching him and where Flint’s fingertips find that sweet spot inside him with torturous precision.

And then, the pressure is gone. Flint crawls between his legs and slicks himself up. He looks savage and not quite human like this, face tight with desire, chest flushed, his cock thick and red and heavy, gaze cast low to Silver’s hole. His eyes snap up, as if he’s pulled from a daydream. He strokes along Silver’s thighs and pushes them wider and up, hands strong under Silver’s knees. Silver takes a shaking breath, before he nods, and Flint presses forward until the head of his cock nudges against his rim.

Silver braces himself and tries to relax, grips Flint’s forearm to have something to hold onto. “Breathe,” Flint says, his own chest pumping and glistening with sweat as he angles his hips and waits for Silver’s body to accept the intrusion. It feels like an eternity until Silver can feel the tightness give and the head of Flint’s cock slips past his rim, impossibly big and hot. They both groan, a filthy sound, desperate. Inch by inch, Flint presses forward, until he finally bottoms out.

“You’re so tight,” Flint gasps as he stays still to give Silver time to adjust.

“Yeah?” Silver doesn’t quite recognize his own voice and chuckles. “That’s because you’re fucking hung.” He leans up to capture Flint’s mouth and bite his bottom lip before he falls back again. He clenches experimentally around Flint’s cock and grin when Flint’s eyes get even darker and he snaps his hips involuntarily.

“Don’t test my patience,” Flint growls and the sound shoots right to Silver’s dick that softened in the last minutes and now perks up again. Flint is fever-hot inside him and Silver wants him to move, wants to know how it will feel when Flint fucks into him rough and deep.

“Patience is overrated,” Silver moves his hips in a tiny circle that has Flint close his eyes and let his mouth fall open around a moan. His hands curl into the muscles of Silver’s thighs and he pulls his hips back until he’s almost leaving Silver before he slams forward.

They both cry out, and Silver wants so say _more_ and _again_ , but he doesn’t have to, because Flint is done waiting and done being patient, because he starts slamming into Silver with fast, hard thrust that pound against the nerves inside him with enough force to make him see stars. Flint’s rhythm is merciless, steady and it’s taking Silver apart so fast he’s dizzy with it. All he can do is hold onto Flint’s arm and buck his hips to meet Flint’s thrust and shout his name until his throat is raw.

Flint hoists Silver’s hips up until he gets his thighs under him and the new angle lets him drive even deeper, slower now, but just as relentless as he pulls Silver’s hips against him. Flint’s head falls back in pleasure and Silver watches a drop of sweat slide down his long neck, follows its track over Flint’s strong chest and down over his ribbed stomach. Pressure is building in his spine and his skin is too tight to contain everything he’s feeling right now. He’s tethering on the edge already and Flint just keeps him spinning higher and higher.

Flint lifts his head again and his eyes are nearly black when they find Silver’s. “Touch yourself,” he orders, and Silver obeys, curls his hand around his cock. He’s dripping with precome, so hard it almost hurts, and the simple touch nearly makes him toppling over. Flint is rocking into him less steady now as his control slips and his rhythm falters. His face is strained, jaw set tight, and his eyes are blazing.

Silver will never get enough of this sight, and he keeps his gaze locked on Flint as starts to move his fist over his aching cock in time with Flint’s hips. Time stands still and the world narrows down to the wet sounds of their bodies meeting and their harsh breathing, to the scent of their sweat and sex, to the blood pumping through his veins and pooling low in his gut. He’s shaking now with the need to come, his body crying for release, but he keeps his movements steady, because he doesn’t want it to end. He can see Flint’s getting close, and to see him loose control is glorious. Flint lets go of his right knee and closes his hand around Silver’s own to set a faster, tighter pace.

Silver’s voice is breaking around a shocked cry, and then the coil snaps and he’s clenching around Flint as he comes in long, almost painful spasms, blind and deaf for long seconds from the sheer force of it.

He opens his eyes to Flint’s expression of wonder as he rasps Silver’s name, hoarse and defeated. One, two deep thrusts find Silver’s most sensitive spot and his dick twitches with the overstimulation. Flint stills. Silver can feel the hot pulses of his release deep inside him as he watches Flint’s face go slack and so utterly open that it makes Silver’s heart ache.

With a content sigh, Flint collapses next to him, cradles him in his arms, and tugs his coat over them both.

Silver watches the sky darken into ink and waits for the stars to appear while he listens to Flint’s even breathing next to him. He’s not sure if this is the best or the dumbest thing he’s ever done, falling for this man and anchoring his life to his. Possibly both, he muses, and he can’t bring himself to regret it.

 

###

 

The fog of sleep clears slowly. Silver can hear distant shouts and the sound of rustling leaves and breaking twigs. He blinks his eyes open to find Flint still fast asleep, curled around him, a hand placed protectively over Silver’s heart.

Billy finds them first, rooted to the spot while he takes the view in. Silver can’t quite meet his eyes, and blushes when Flint struggles awake and realizes the compromising image they make. Flint clears his throat, clearly to bark at Billy to turn around and mind his own business. Billy’s quicker though.

“Glad you sorted out your issues,” he says, humor evident in his voice. “I’ll get the men and we’ll wait on the beach while you…” he waves his hand in a gesture that encompasses their state of undress and how they clearly spend their time on the island shagging like rabbits, “get decent.” With that he turns and leaves a silence behind that’s starting to get uncomfortable rapidly. Until Flint laughs, a deep rumble that rolls out of his chest like thunder and lets his eyes twinkle.

“Poor Billy,” he rasps with shaking shoulders. Silver can’t stop himself from leaning over and kiss the smile on his lips.

“He’ll manage.”

 He doesn't know where they'll go from here, but at least they won't go alone.

 


End file.
